


Love from a Distance

by bending_sickle



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Angst and Porn, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bending_sickle/pseuds/bending_sickle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex between a vampire and a ghost has its complications.  When Annie suggests pegging, they decide it's worth a try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love from a Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartofstanding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofstanding/gifts).



> This is the testimony of the deer: solitude,  
> the long corridors, love from a distance. You asked me once,  
>  _What are we made of?_ Well, these are the things we’re made of. 
> 
> – The Stag and the Quiver by Richard Siken

“So what do you think?”

Mitchell stared at Annie, then down at the thing in her hands. Then back up at her face. He looked far from convinced, but Annie’s smile refused to falter. She proffered the object again. “It’s a solution,” she insisted.

“It’s sodomy,” countered Mitchell, his tone as blank as his expression.

“No! No, it’s not,” Annie argued immediately. “It’s…” She held up the harness by a strap. “It’s a strap-on. I’m not going to sodomize you, Mitchell.” She sounded horrified.

Mitchell ran his hands through his hair, pushing his curls back. “Annie.” He sighed. “Annie,” he tried again, and got nowhere.

“Mitchell,” echoed Annie, a touch childishly. 

Mitchell buried his face in his hands.

Annie let the strap-on fall to the bed and shifted so she sat beside Mitchell on the bed. She let him hide behind his gloved hands and wild hair for a moment. “Alright,” she admitted, “I can see how me buggering you up the arse with a dildo would be sodomy.”

“Pretty much the definition,” agreed Mitchell. He lifted his head up and propped his chin on a hand, finally looking at her again.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Annie put a hand on his knee. She couldn’t feel the denim, or the heat of his skin beneath, but at least he felt solid. Mitchell had said she felt cold, but she couldn’t remember if he’d said she felt real. “But what do you think?”

Mitchell poked at the strap-on in front of him, running his finger along the leather, slipping a thumb through the metal ring, pressing the cushioned backing, and turning it this way and that. He didn’t touch the dildo lying beside it.

Annie kept her hand on his knee. She didn’t squeeze.

“Okay.”

“What?” Annie wasn’t sure she’d heard him.

“I said ‘okay’, Annie. We can try it.”

Annie let go of a breath she didn’t need and this time she did squeeze his knee. “It’s going to be great,” she assured him, grinning wide and bumping his shoulder with her forehead. 

“Yeah,” agreed Mitchell. He still didn’t sound wholly convinced, but at least the stiff set of his shoulders had softened. He pressed a kiss to her hair. “It’s worth a try, at least.”

That was pretty much their mantra in the bedroom. (And the living room, that one time, not that George would ever let them forget it. It was a good thing he didn’t know about the other time in kitchen.) There’d been a lot of tries. Annie kept trying to shed more of her clothes, or shift them enough for Mitchell to reach her skin, but concentration wasn’t a thing she could hang on to when his hands or mouth touched her. 

Mitchell, for his part, kept trying to match her step, and Annie tried not to be hurt by this. She knew she was the more enthusiastic partner, the one more keen on figuring this out, and if it weren’t for the way Mitchell looked at her, like she was the one thing he lived for – or maybe the one thing keeping him alive – she would have worried he didn’t want to touch her at all. But he kept agreeing to her experiments, kept moving towards her when she pulled back, so she didn’t pry.

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. She had pried. Once. Her lips had been around his cock, trying to finish off what her hands had started, when he’d gone limp in her mouth. Kind of made a girl worry, that did. Mitchell had interrupted her tumbling words of apology and concern with, “It’s just cold, Annie. Just cold,” before pulling her up into his arms and kissing her gently. “I’m cold, you mean,” she’d wanted to say, but couldn’t get the words out.

***

“Are you sure you know how this works?” Mitchell sat naked in the middle of the bed, eyeing her like a hawk.

“It’s got instructions!” Annie hissed back, fumbling with the straps, her hands full of buckles and leather, and nearly dropping the harness. 

“Come ‘ere,” said Mitchell, gesturing.

“I can do it,” she insisted.

“Yeah, I know, but come here.”

Annie crawled across the mattress, one hand holding the harness to her crotch, stark black against the grey of her clothes, and sat down in front of Mitchell. “Don’t laugh,” she ordered.

So of course he laughed. “No, no, come here, come here.” Mitchell rose up to his knees and cradled her face in his hands. “Give us a kiss, come on.” He was still grinning when he kissed her, soft, gentle, and chaste. Annie hardly felt it. Her lips moved, and she could feel the pressure pushing at them, but little else. 

So she pushed back, asked for more, wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth. She sucked in his lower lip, took it between her teeth, then sought out his tongue. Mitchell’s hands sank into her hair and she felt his body press up against hers. 

But she felt no heat in her mouth, tasted nothing on her tongue, and for all that she breathed, she had no idea what Mitchell smelled like. But she could feel him, however faintly, and that would have to be enough.

Mitchell’s voice echoed in her head. It’s cold. 

A fist tightened in her stomach. 

She ruined everything.

“What’s wrong?” asked Mitchell as Annie pulled back, ducking her head away from his mouth and his hands.

She dragged the harness up her thighs. “Help me with this.”

Mitchell took the straps from hers, his hands ghosting over hers and Annie couldn’t be sure whether they’d touched or not. Deftly, he looped leather around her and snaked straps through buckles. His hands lingered on her arse, dragging the strap up between her cheeks, and that she felt.

A low whisper – but no hot breath – caressed her ear. “Where’s the…”

“On the dresser.”

“Right.” Mitchell sank back down on bed and reached back for the dildo. Annie watched him move, how his muscles rolled and tightened beneath his skin, the small bedside lamp casting shadows across his back that accentuated every line. God, but she wanted to drag her hands along his skin, her tongue down his back. She wanted to feel the heat of him on her palms, taste him on her tongue, smell that cheap cologne he scrubbed off of magazines. She wanted to do more than see.

Mitchell turned back to her and guided the dildo through the ring, cursing a little under his breath as he loosened some straps. Annie watched him from her vantage height – a dark head of curls and shoulders that made her ache. She wrapped her arms around him, palms flat against his skin to feel him shift beneath, and kissed his crown. 

Mitchell stilled in her embrace. After a moment, he said only, “I can’t see, Annie.”

She let him go, but not entirely, one hand on his shoulder as he tightened the straps around her hips. She closed her eyes as he tightened the ones around her thighs and yes, yes she could feel his skin against hers. Memories warmed her palm, turned the skin beneath it slick with sweat, and it was almost enough.

“All done.” It was a soft announcement, and Mitchell would not meet her eyes.

“Kiss me.”

“But –” Mitchell gestured at her hips. 

Annie ran a hand across his cheek, rough stubble catching on her skin – rough, yes, she could feel that at least – and dragged her thumb over his lips. “Just kiss me.”

He did, and as Annie drew on every memory she had of every kiss she’d ever shared, she felt his kiss bloom in her mouth. Now it was hot, and wet, smooth lips and smoother tongue, hard teeth and prickling stubble. His mouth was burning and she was drowning. 

She could almost taste him.

She pushed him back down onto the bed, both hands splayed wide on his chest. His skin was warm, his chest hair soft, his nipples hard. She buried her face in his neck and breathed deep, felt his pulse hard and fast against her lips, smelled his skin, his hair. He was there. He was real.

She was real.

Arms wrapped around her, hands travelled over her skin, and she felt a trail of wet kisses blossom on her shoulder, her neck, grow into a hot mouth sucking on the skin behind her earlobe. She tilted her head to the side, sensations washing over her like the ocean, her breath catching in her throat.

She buried her face in a solid shoulder, licked and tasted, while her hand slid down, over a chest that heaved with light pants that alternately cooled and warmed the wet kissed skin of her neck, over a stomach that tightened beneath her touch, over soft hair that thickened to tight curls that snagged on her rings. Her hand wrapped around his cock, all silken skin and heat, and her lips sought the same in his mouth.

“Jesus,” gasped Mitchell, body tense beneath her, and his mouth wouldn’t mould to Annie’s.

It was like a light switching off. Memories fluttered and dispersed like a flock of birds at a gunshot.  
Where before her body was alive with sensation, all heat and wetness and softness, now it was numb. Now she only felt what she saw her body touch.

Her hand.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Annie scrambled to the side, hand springing off Mitchell’s cock to hang hesitantly into the air. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

Mitchell closed his eyes shut a moment and took a breath. “It’s alright, Annie,” he said, words mingling into a sigh. “You just startled me.”

A bucket of cold water, thought Annie. That’s me.

Mitchell opened his eyes again and her thoughts must have shown on her face, because his eyebrows furrowed and he moved in to kiss her. 

It was a flickering candle to the fireworks she’d been experiencing – or remembering – before.

“It’s alright,” he said again. 

Annie forced herself to smile at him.

Mitchell’s eyes flickered to her hand, still hovering over his cock. “You going to put that down anywhere?”

This time the smile came easy.

This was one of the things they’d tried that had actually worked. Annie hand settled over his, fingers over the back of his hand and his wrist, as he wrapped his hand around his cock. Together they stroked him back to hardness.

Mitchell stilled his hand a few strokes after that, just as his hips were starting to move with their hands and his face was taking on a look of wonder, mouth slack and eyes fixed on Annie. “How do you want me?” he gasped.

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips, “I can feel your hard-on.”

“My hard – oh.” Annie looked down at the dildo jutting out between her legs. It was poking Mitchell in the thigh.

“So? How do you want me?” The question was softer the second time around.

Annie curled up against Mitchell’s side, her head on his shoulder with her hand splayed over his stomach, thumb stroking the dark hair sprinkled there. “I’m not sure,” she said quietly. “How – how would you rather?”

Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her. “You read the instructions on a strap on harness, Annie. No, look, –” he said, interrupting her protests, “you’re bound to have done research.” He gave her a pointed look.

Annie ran her thumb through the hair on Mitchell’s stomach against the grain. “I may’ve,” she admitted.

“So what’s the best way to do it? For beginners?”

“You mean you’ve never done this before?”

Mitchell didn’t miss a beat. “Not with you wearing that monster I haven’t.”

Annie glanced down at the dildo. “Shit, is it too big?”

Mitchell chuckled and kissed her on the head. “It’s fine. Did you bring lube?”

Annie nodded. She tugged lightly at the hair under her fingers.

“Alright then.” Mitchell shifted away from Annie, slipping out from under her arm, and shoved the pillow to the side before laying facedown onto the bed. He wriggled his hips a little before settling.

Annie let her eyes wander over his body for a moment, from the broad shoulders to the slim hips, the line of his spine and back muscles tapering to his arse. She watched the muscles clench as Mitchell got comfortable, his hard-on no doubt getting in the way. He looked like a sculpture, she thought, one of those cream marble statues that looked more alive than the museum visitors.

“Annie?” Mitchell turned his head to look at her, his cheek on his forearm.

“I’ll be right there,” she answered, voice too cheery and smile too bright, turning away from Mitchell with the solid stone body she would be delving into. God, how was she ever going to get in…

Annie grabbed the bottle of lube from the night table. She glanced back at Mitchell’s arse, with its tight muscles and deep, shadowed dimples. She was going to need the whole bottle of lube, she decided. Better safe than sorry, right? 

Holding the bottle to her chest, Annie crawled over the bed, moving towards the foot of the bed. As her knee brushed Mitchell’s calf, he drew it up and to the side. Slowly, he did the same with the other leg, and Annie settled down between his legs with a jutting dildo, a bottle of lube, and no idea how to use either.

With her free hand, Annie reached out and lightly brushed the small of Mitchell’s back. The muscle tensed slightly. She moved her hand a little and pressed her palm down, cupping the curve of his arse. This time Mitchell tensed so fast the mattress shook.

Annie took her hand away as if burned.

From beneath his arms, Mitchell mumbled, “It’s alright, Annie.”

It’s alright. It was always ‘alright’ with Mitchell. Annie was starting to think that maybe Mitchell had no idea what the word meant anymore.

Annie watched Mitchell relax – knew he was forcing himself to relax – and waited until the lines had disappeared from his back before setting her hand down again on the top of his thigh. This time he was still.

She ran her thumb along the soft skin of Mitchell’s thigh, eyes clinging to the sight of his skin under hers, before lifting her head. She stared at the cleft of his arse, feeling like the most inadequate Moses because she could simply not imagine parting that flesh.

Annie popped the bottle of lube open – the click thunderclap loud in the stillness of the room – and watched Mitchell’s muscles bunch together at the sound.

No.

Not like this.

“Turn around.” 

Mitchell froze. “What?” His voice was muffled against the mattress.

Annie cleared her throat and forced her voice into disarming playfulness. “I said, turn around, you great oaf.” She gave Mitchell’s arse a light slap and immediately cringed.

Mitchell slowly collected his limbs and turned around onto his back, placing one leg on either side of Annie. His cock lay curled to the side, half-hard. Annie poured out some lube on the palm of her hand and carefully took Mitchell’s cock in her hand. 

At her touch, he hissed. “Lube’s cold.” It’s cold.

“I’m sorry.” I’m cold.

Gently, she wrapped her fingers around Mitchell’s cock again and dragged her hand up, all the way up to the head, before dragging it down again. She adjusted her grip, getting the feel of the lube, and drew her hand up again, adding a thumb swipe across the head before running her hand down the length of Mitchell’s cock, grip tightening further. The muscles of Mitchell’s stomach tightened and his hand came up to join hers. They moved their hands over his cock together, fingers slick and sliding over each other. Mitchell’s hips started straining towards their hands, and he closed his eyes.

Annie watched him as they stroked him closer to the edge, loving the myriad expressions of pleasure that flew across his face with the raising of an eyebrow, the twitch of a lip, the hard line of his jaw as he threw his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Lightly, as they drew their hands up, she let her fingers slip over the head with a rolling motion that made his hips jerk, and with that she freed her hand. Mitchell’s hand kept rising and falling, and it was a hard sight to tear her eyes away from, but Annie did, pouring more lube on her hands.

This time one hand joined Mitchell’s while the other went further down, cupping his balls, feeling them slide against her palm as Mitchell strained towards their joined hands. One the next upstroke, Annie slipped her fingers lower, behind his balls, searching.

Mitchell’s hips stuttered to a stop. He lifted his head, looking at her, panting hard. Annie held her breath, and knew she could hold it for eternity.

With a short sigh, Mitchell let his head drop back onto the mattress.

Annie waited.

Mitchell drew his knees up wide to the sides and Annie let herself breathe again.

She poured more lube onto her hands, all along the length of her fingers, and slipped them beneath his balls, drew them down. She let her fingertips pass over his hole a few times, eyes steady on Mitchell’s face, before pressing a fingertip at the entrance. 

“Mitchell?” Don’t say ‘it’s alright’, don’t say ‘it’s alright’, don’t.

“Yeah.” He reached out for Annie and took the hand that held the lube. She dropped it to the mattress and gripped him tight. “Yeah,” he repeated.

Annie pushed, and her finger slipped inside Mitchell.

She could almost feel the heat. Almost.

Slowly, she sank her finger in deeper, and watched rapt as Mitchell closed his eyes and threw his head back, throat to the ceiling, cock thick and heavy on his stomach. His grip on her hand was ironclad. It would have hurt, she knew, if things could still hurt her.

More fingers went in just as slowly, and while she occasionally had to let go of Mitchell’s hand to pour more lube on her hand, she always took it back. He was rocking into her hand now, just slightly, little shifts of his hips that nonetheless brought her fingers in deeper. A bead of precum nestled in his belly button.

Annie whispered his name. He rocked back onto her fingers. Annie tried again, stilling her fingers and squeezing his hand. “Mitchell?”

Mitchell only managed to drag out a low acknowledging moan.

“Do you want me to…” She didn’t know how to say it. For all her earlier talk, she felt shy now. A touch ridiculous, too, sitting there fully clothed on the bed – never mind that her shoulders were bare, her sleeves pushed back to the elbow – with a dildo bouncing on her crotch. She felt the very definition of unsexy.

Mitchell stilled his hips with a shuddering breath and opened his eyes, blinking a few times at the ceiling before looking down at her between his legs. The expression of bliss never faltered, as she’d feared it would. In fact, when he saw her, he took another stuttering breath that faded into a moan, ribs squeezing together along with his hand gripping hers, and the look on his face left her aching. The way he looked at her left words like want and desire short. This was need, thick and visceral, clawing out for her from every inch of him, every breath.

She had to hear him say it.

Annie swallowed hard, hoping her voice wouldn’t fail her. “Do you want me to?”

“God, yes.” He said it like a prayer.

Annie smiled, blinking quickly, and had she been alive her eyes would have stung. She slipped her hand from his and took the bottle of lube, pouring it along the length of the dildo, then on her fingers curled inside Mitchell. He gave a low whine when she dragged them out to the tips, a sharp pant when she sank them in again. Carefully, Annie coated the dildo in lube, watching it glisten in the low light. Mitchell watched her, lower lip caught between his teeth, then brought his hand alongside hers, wrapping his fingers around the shaft. Together they ran their hands along the length of the dildo, their movements echoing those they’d done earlier, on Mitchell’s own cock.

Annie shifted on her knees and Mitchell let go, pressing his slick hand against the sheets. Slowly, Annie drew her fingers free from Mitchell, watching him dip his head back at the pleasure of it. Her heart sang, seeing him like this, lost in the sensations of his body, moving to its music instead of looking at his feet as he tried to match her steps.

Mitchell drew his knees up towards his chest, leaving his balls and hole exposed, the delicate skin slick with lube. Anne edged closer, one hand on the inside of Mitchell’s thigh, the other wrapped around the base of the dildo. She leaned in, dragging the head of the dildo along the underside of Mitchell’s balls, trying to center it, using the dark line running up to his cock as guidance. 

Mitchell twitched a little at her touch, thighs widening and hips lifting, and the dildo accidentally nudged him in the balls. He gave out a pained whoof of a breath, but immediately followed it with, “I’m fine, I’m fine, Annie,” effectively cutting off her words of concern. “Just aim a little lower, yeah?”

She did, sliding her hand along the dildo towards the head and dragging her other hand from his thigh to his balls, leaving shiny trails of lube on his skin. These shone like claw marks in the light. Her thumb found his hole, slipping in easily and drawing a sigh from Mitchell before she pulled it out again, cupping his balls carefully out of the way. She pressed the head of the dildo where her thumb had just been, but didn’t push.

“Are you ready?”

“Jesus, Annie,” was Mitchell’s only verbal response. His body spoke louder, stomach tightening and hips reaching for her.

So she tilted her hips and watched as the head disappeared into Mitchell, sliding in slowly but inexorably, meeting no resistance save her own insecurity. Mitchell froze beneath her, eyes to the ceiling and lips parted. 

Annie looked down at how much further she had left to sink into him and paused, watching his face.

Mitchell blinked, swallowed, then tilted his hips towards her again, invitingly. Annie let go of the dildo and steadied herself with a hand on the inside of Mitchell’s thigh before leaning into him, watching the dildo slide, slide, slide into Mitchell, until his arse was flush against the harness. Annie was leaning heavily on his thigh now, though she wasn’t sure whether it was to steady herself, or to push him open wider.

Mitchell was panting shallowly beneath her, practically quaking. Annie slid both hands along the underside of his thighs, pushing them higher, wider, and leaned forward, biting her lip. Mitchell’s breath rushed in to him, a long drawn breath as if she were hollowing him out. His cock twitched on his stomach, hard as ever and still slick from the lube. At the sight of it, Annie let go of one of Mitchell’s thighs and took it in her hand.

“Jesus,” was all Mitchell could manage, a tight exhale, his head pressing into the mattress as he bared his throat to the ceiling.

Annie allowed herself a small victorious smile at that. 

She dragged her hand down the length of his cock, her grip tight, and watched Mitchell arch up towards her. She felt the harness straps tug at her waist and between her cheeks as Mitchell rocked his hips lightly, matching her upstroke.

This was working, she thought.

Emboldened, Annie rested one hand on the mattress beside Mitchell, her other hand still pumping him in a slow rhythm. Carefully, full of concentration, she began to draw her hips back, then forwards again, short thrusts that drew a low moan from deep within Mitchell. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

Annie drew her hips farther back, her back arching, the straps tugging as the dildo dragged out, then she pushed, falling in slow motion against Mitchell until she felt his thighs against her waist. Her hand around his cock followed her rhythm. This time her movements drew out a choked sound from Mitchell, half groan, half gasp. He turned his head to the side, curls falling over his face, eyes closed and mouth slack, and had Annie been a painter she would have rendered his face for all eternity and titled every canvas Bliss.

She sank into him again and again, twisting her hips, rolling into his body the way she remembered loving it most, riding him as Mitchell shuddered beneath her, needy whimpers drawn out of his throat with every swirl over her thumb over his cock. With every thrust, Mitchell rose up further towards her, his thighs riding up her waist, calves locking over her arse, hands reaching for her shoulders, sinking into her hair as he arched higher. His face reached hers and he dragged her mouth to his, fingers lost in her hair, gasping and panting his kisses past her lips, punctuating her thrusts with a Jesus, and a kiss, a Joseph, and another kiss, a MarymotherofGod and his tongue stroking hers.

Annie felt every caress, every kiss, the heat of his mouth and the silk of his tongue, the pull of his fingers winding in her hair and his stubble rasping against her cheek. 

He came with his tongue in her mouth, a moan rolling from him into her as Annie worked his cock and rocked into him. She felt his tense around her – his arms, his legs, his whole body pulling her closer – and arch his back, his mouth slipping from hers as he threw his head back. On impulse, Annie latched her mouth onto his neck, teeth and tongue and want, sucking on skin she could almost taste as she squeezed his cock and buried the dildo deep. 

Mitchell quivered beneath her, pressing his neck towards her before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down to his chest. Annie rocked into him, slower now, shallow thrusts as he finished coming, and felt his breath hot and fast against her ear. He was saying something, or trying to, the ghost of a word squeezed out of his chest with every gasp.

Eventually she realized it was her name.

Annie lay on Mitchell a while longer, as his breath calmed and his limbs loosened around her. Her cheek lay flush against his chest, and as its rise and fall evened, Annie felt the heat of his skin, the prickle of his chest hair, slowly disappear from her senses. Like a cup of tea left out too long, the steam long gone and the cup growing cold.

Mitchell kissed the crown of her head, and she felt that, at least.

“That,” he breathed into her hair, “was definitely worth a try.” Another kiss. “Maybe more.”

Annie smiled.


End file.
